Stuck
by Kefirah
Summary: A Weevil hunt doesn't go very well for Jack and Ianto. Fluff, one-shot.


**Summary:** A Weevil hunt doesn't end as well as it could.

**Characters:** Captain Jack H, Ianto J, Owen H.

**Pairing**: Jack/Ianto

**Rating**: T (for language)

**Spoiler**: none

**Warnings**: swearing and adult language, blood, injury

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters or plot lines, nor do I receive money from stories.

**A/N**: Ianto's second sentence burst on me like a flash and the story built around it. Pure fluff and fun. This wasn't specifically beta-d.

**STUCK**

Ianto Jones blinked. He hadn't meant to. One minute the Weevil was two blocks ahead of them, shuffling fast towards the city centre, the next moment there was a dark flash less than ten feet away and a loping figure darted in front of the Torchwood SUV.

"Jack, look out!" Ianto clutched at the dashboard, almost as if he could push the alien out of the way, but Captain Jack Harkness had better reflexes. A violently sharp turn, slamming Ianto against the door and window, sent the large vehicle skidding out of the way. Ianto caught one terrifying glimpse of sharp teeth in the window before his head slammed hard against the glass.

The next thing he remembered was nausea and pain and the horrible sensation that he was put together wrong. Nothing looked right. Nothing felt right. Something was crushing his chest and he couldn't breathe. Every exhale thrust more air out than was coming in.

"Ianto?"

He recognized the voice in the dark and tried to answer. It came out less like "Jack" and more like a pained grunt. Blinking furiously he tried to clear his head. He stared at one thing until it made sense what it was, his left knee hanging in front of his face. Upside down. SUV flipped. Pleased with himself to have figured that out, he decided to work on how to breathe next.

He was still hooked into his seat belt and it was digging painfully into his chest and across his hips. He tried to push up, or was it down? into his seat, to give the belt some slack but the effort left him panting and in more pain.

"Aiighh!"

"Ianto! Are you okay?"

There was a click and a tumble of limbs next to him. Jack had released his seat belt and was now trying to kneel next to him in the cramped space. Hands held him, pushing, and finally he could breathe for a moment.

"You flipped the fucking SUV!" he shouted.

"I know!" Jack growled with the effort of holding him and the exasperation of crashing. "You yelled and I swerved. What did you yell for?"

"A Weevil coming straight at us. I didn't want you hitting it."

"Oh, and crashing is better?"

"For the Weevil, yeah." Ianto scrabbled at his seat belt, but for some reason he couldn't find the release button. "Where's the bloody seat belt button?"

"Hang on! I'll have to let go to find it."

Ianto felt himself hanging again. "Ow! At least you ended up ..." his grunts punctuated every few words, "in a position that keeps ...oofff! ... the blood off my suit! Thank you ... for that."

"You're welcome. I'll plan all my future crashes accordingly."

Jack's hands were everywhere, some places a little more intimate than others, as he struggled to find and press the buckle release. Not that Ianto cared. Along with his hips, his cock felt like it was being cut in half by the belt. He was going to have some interesting bruises.

"Fuck!" He gasped as the belt suddenly released. His knees fell first, his head twisting. First somersault in oh, twenty years or so. It was not worth telling his primary school gym teacher; the dismount was crap. He tried to keep his head down, or at least out of direct verticality of his suit, but it was impossible. With the huge gash on his head, and the previous position and the fact that head wounds bleed profusely as a rule, he could feel too many runnels of blood dribbling down his head and neck into his collar. "Fuckity fuck!" he groaned again.

"Here." A large white handkerchief was pressed against his face, a little too late, but he didn't complain.

"Thanks."

They were both scrunched together, kneeling on the ceiling of the SUV, now the floor. Strange that a vehicle that held two men six feet tall too far apart to grope effectively when upright seemed much smaller upside-down. Unless it really was smaller, smashed and crunched. Ianto looked around. No, it looked intact. Thank god for reinforced steel frames.

"Getting us out would be a good thing, now." He didn't want to sound claustrophobic, but being this close to his enigmatic, beautiful, pheromone-charged boss/boyfriend was not easy at the best of times. With a gushing head wound and a terrifically bruised penis that still wished to dance – painful as that was – all Ianto wanted right now was out and air.

"I've tried my door. It won't open. Want to try yours?"

Ianto held the linen handkerchief to his head with one hand and reached behind him with the other, fumbling for the door latch. He was sure he found it and was pushing it the right way but nothing was happening. "Can you see if the lock is down?"

"No," Jack answered, then, knowing Ianto well, he filled in, "it's not locked."

"Fuck!"

"Please stop saying that." Jack squirmed and wriggled, his hands digging through his clothes. For one dizzying moment, Ianto thought that Jack was starting to undress, wishing to take him up on his pleas.

"You have _got_ to be kidding, Jack! I'm bleeding, bruised in oh so many places, we're fu-" he bit his tongue, "upside-_damn_-down and you're horny because of my choice of swear words?"

"Can't help it." Jack caressed Ianto's chin with one hand. The other one came up, brandishing what he had been digging around for. "A-ha! Mobile. I'm calling Owen."

"Great." Ianto rolled his eyes as Jack pressed the quick-dial button. "You know he's going to think we crashed because we were doing something perverted. If we had sex half as often as Owen thinks we do, I'd be paralysed and you'd be dead ... a lot."

"One can dream," Jack waggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Owen! Great, you're up. Little problem with the SUV. Need you to come get us, thanks."

Ianto could hear Doctor Owen Harper's rant through the phone, not the words exactly, but the tone was definitely blistering. But he didn't hear Jack telling _him_ not to say "fuck".

"No, I don't know where we are, exactly ..."

"Somewhere between Upside-Down _Plass_ and _Heol _Flipped-The-SUV," Ianto muttered.

"... Just check the tracker and get here. Ianto's wounded." Jack gave no more room for discussion, snapping the mobile phone closed.

As much as he disliked being used as an excuse, and as much as Ianto figured Owen didn't like him, the young man knew that the Torchwood doctor would not waste time. His usual purview was dead aliens, but he still prided himself on keeping the headstrong Torchwood team relatively intact.

"It's not that bad, Jack." If Owen had his priorities, so did Ianto. And minimizing his own discomfort for the welfare of his captain and team was instinctive.

"Bullshit. You're pale and green. Not good colours on you, by the way. Lean back into the seat. Let me take a look at that cut."

"I'll throw out the green tie I thought you liked, then." Ianto relinquished the now mostly red handkerchief and propped himself up against the back of his seat. Now that Jack mentioned it, the adrenalin rush seemed to be wearing off. He felt shaky and nauseous again.

Jack shifted closer. With his eyes closed, Ianto felt the captain's knees pressed against his legs, and his breath against his cheek as the tall man leaned over him, dabbing at the cut in Ianto's scalp.

"Ow," Ianto murmured, then yelped a little louder as Jack's fingers pressed the handkerchief more firmly against the gash.

"It's still bleeding. A lot. You're going to need stitches."

"If I pass out, don't let Owen shave too much hair off."

"You're not going to pass out."

"I hate to argue, but I think I ..." Ianto's eyes fluttered.

Jack pressed the cloth to Ianto's wound again. The young man groaned, eyes flashing open again.

"Keep arguing with me, Ianto. No passing out."

"Dammit that hurts." Ianto grabbed at Jack's hand, trying to push him away.

"Good. It's supposed to. Talk to me and that will keep you awake."

Ianto closed his eyes but waved away Jack's concern that he was losing consciousness. "What do you want to talk about?"

"We could make a list of things that Owen thinks we were doing to crash the car?"

"Pass."

"You're no fun."

"That's not what you said last night, sir," Ianto said flirtatiously.

"Where's your handkerchief?" Jack started digging in Ianto's pockets and found the neatly folded linen square in an inner jacket pocket. He dug into the glove compartment where there was a half-full bottle of water. Wetting the handkerchief, he started wiping the blood from Ianto's face. The young man was surprised how gentle Jack was, even as he was trying to scrub at the smears of dried blood.

"I'm so glad you didn't use spit."

Jack laughed. "May I kiss you though?"

"If you must." Despite the heavy sigh, Ianto smiled willingly.

Jack's lips caressed Ianto's softly, then pressed a little firmer. Ianto was enjoying the distraction when they were startled apart by a sharp rapping on the windshield. Doctor Owen Harper had arrived right on time. His cheeky grin and eye-rolling said volumes. Ianto was in for weeks worth of teasing.

"Fuck!" Ianto groaned.

Jack just grinned back at Owen. The doctor wouldn't dream of teasing him.

"You two all right, then?" Owen's voice clearly. "Best cover yourself up. I'll crack the windshield."

Jack shuffled out of his long coat, draping it over both their heads. In the dim light he leaned over and gave Ianto another quick kiss, just because he could. A sharp crack and then the glass shattered around them. He brushed the pellet sized pieces off them both before helping Ianto to climb out.

Thankfully Owen was all business. He sat Ianto down under the splash of light from a street lamp and inspected the wound.

"Not too horrible. Needs stitches though." He took out a penlight and tested Ianto's eyes. "Know what day it is?"

"The day Jack flipped the SUV. A date which will live in infamy."

"I said I was sorry," Jack stood over them, watching Owen.

"No you didn't, actually. And considering I'm half scalped, an apology would be nice."

"Okay, okay! I apologize!"

"Boys! Stop fighting or it's no supper for the both of you!" Owen's grin looked positively impish, obviously enjoying getting to berate the two men. Not that Jack and Ianto were really angry at each other. When that happened, the Hub was silent for days. "Now, be serious for a moment, Ianto. What's the fucking date?"

"Oh for god's sake, Owen. It's Tuesday January 15. We were Weevil hunting. A Weevil jumped in front of the car and Jack crashed. I remember everything."

"All right, don't bite my head off. It's my bloody job. God, dead aliens are so much easier." Owen stood and faced Jack. "I'm taking him back to the Hub. You wait here for the towing lorry. I called one on the way here. We don't want the SUV lying about."

"Good idea. I'll meet you back there later." He helped Ianto to stand and would have half carried him to Owen's car if Ianto hadn't slapped him away. Still, Ianto was wobbly and glad for a chance to sit down again even after that short walk.

Despite Owen's abrasive nature he was a careful driver and with a minimum of jolts and jouncing, he was soon parking his car. Surreptitious support and grumpy cajoling got Ianto up into the Hub and into the sunken well of the morgue, Owen's domain.

"Sit on the chair. It'll make it easier to work." Owen washed his hands and pulled out packages of sutures and bandages.

Ianto turned away, purposefully trying not to watch. He didn't relish the idea of being sewn together while conscious. "I don't suppose you'll put me under for this."

"No, all this needs is a local."

"Will I ... feel it?"

Owen stopped in the process of putting on latex gloves. "Feel what? You'll feel the needle with the anaesthetic but after that you won't feel anything." He smirked. "Squeamish, are you?"

"Yes." Ianto saw no point in lying.

"Well, be thankful you won't be able to see anything. Unless you'd like me to set up a mirror."

"No! Thanks."

The pain of the needle was the worst bit. Owen told him he could yell and that peevishly made him not want to. But Ianto was sure he was digging holes into the arm of the metal chair with his fingers as the needle jabbed again and again into his sensitive scalp.

"Aiigh, are you done yet?"

"Just ... about. Okay, done. Give it a moment."

Ianto breathed through the dizziness he was feeling. His gut was tense and nausea threatened. He didn't dare ask for a bowl to be sick in – the mere thought of it nearly spilling him over the edge – but again Owen's experience came through. He set a bowl in Ianto's lap without comment.

"All right, let's get you zipped up."

There were some sensations, odd tugging and pokes that while not painful made Ianto wince slightly.

"It shouldn't hurt."

"No, it just feels weird."

He saw some of his hair flutter into the bowl, but not as much as he expected.

Finally as the main entrance to the Hub whooped it's alarm, alerting them to Jack's entrance, Owen was finishing wrapping the bandages around Ianto's head.

"Just in time, as usual. Everything's done." Ianto quipped.

"Wasn't even here to hold your hand. Damn. You look dashing in a head bandage."

"Is anything non-violent romantic to you?"

Jack thought for a moment. "Probably not."

"I'll remember that on Valentine's Day."

"Ahem, may I get a word in?" Owen snapped off the gloves, enjoying the cringe it caused in the two men. "Bed rest," and his eyes raked Jack meaningfully, "complete ... bed rest for 24 hours. See me if you have blurring vision, excessive dizziness, or display any confusion. You should be okay with paracetamol for pain. No driving, easy activity for 3 to 4 days. You lost quite a lot of blood."

"I'll take care of him." Jack tugged Ianto upright and slipped his arm around the young man's narrow waist, to help him up the steps to the main Hub.

"You only need to take me home, Jack. I can take care of me," Ianto said pointedly. He hated being fussed over and was most definitely not a needy invalid.

"Someone has to make sure you stay in bed."

Jack and Ianto's bickering continued as they made their way towards the door.

Owen threw up his hands and went to dispose of the debris of the procedure. "It goes in one ear and out the other with those two."


End file.
